


Grapes Darken

by DiamondsxStags



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Nanowrimo Project, mostly the arkham games with some year one scarecrow, since the batman verse has a lot of conflicting canons im taking inspiration from different places
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-01
Updated: 2017-11-13
Packaged: 2019-01-27 21:24:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12590824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DiamondsxStags/pseuds/DiamondsxStags
Summary: Jonathan Crane is a psychology professor whose disinterest in his students has grown into something resembling distaste. Edward Nygma is a GCPD employee who's ennui is almost palpable. Both of them find a shared interest (read: obsession) in Daphne De Winter, Jonathan's student and Edward's co-worker, which will entangle all three of them in a web that will bind them all by the bones.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> because im a fucking nerd i made a trailer for this fic that you can check out here: https://vimeo.com/227833319

" _Grapes will draken by looking at each other._ "-Turkish proverb

* * *

 

Teaching, Jonathan decided, was an utterly thankless profession. Every year new students with minds ripe for molding walked through those doors, and every year those same students consistently failed to impress him. Jonathan doesn’t think his standards are all that high, just high enough for students who are studying one of the hardest and most intriguing disciplines in academia, at least in his opinion. He alternated between reading over his lesson plan and looking up at the slowly filling seats as more and more young adults walked in, most of them talking to one another with the kind of camaraderie that only college can inspire.

 

When the clock on his desk finally ticked over to ten, he stood up, slowly running his eyes over everyone and waited for silence. There were a few stragglers at the end, but eventually Jonathan was given the floor, all eyes on him. “Good morning class.” He said, without even bothering to hide the detachment in his voice. He had never had the skill for feigning pleasantness. “I am Professor Crane, and this is Psychology One Oh One.” He picked up a whiteboard marker and uncapped it, turning to the whiteboard behind him and writing on it. “In this class,” he rose his voice so that everyone could still hear him, “we will be covering the many ways the mind exerts power over the body, and just how it is able to do so. But that’s not the only thing we will be covering.” He turned back to the class, leaning forward and placing his palms on the desk. “In this class, we will be covering the fundamentals of fear.”

 

A low murmur broke over the class, as the word ‘fear’, all in capitals, loomed just behind Jonathan, stretched out like a pair of black wings. “Fear is our most primal of emotions.” He went on, ignoring the apprehensive looks and whispers. “Indeed our very survival depends on fear. If we do not fear the predator, we are that much more likely to become their prey.” It was then Jonathan noticed one of his students was not joining in on the low talking. A young woman, center seat in the middle row, was looking directly at him, face impassive. “If we do not fear the flame, it is more likely to consume us.” He holds her gaze. “Fear controls us at our most basic level. And it is only when we learn to conquer it, rather than let it conquer us, that we are able to exert full control over ourselves.” He feels his mouth ghost into a smirk, which he quickly checks. “So, in effect, this class is just as much about control as it is about psychology. While it is important to know thy enemy, it is equally important to know thy mind. Especially when they are so often the same thing.”

 

To her credit, the girl did not break the stare. Her dark eyes bored into Jonathan’s blue ones, completely blank. Jonathan was vaguely reminded of the pictures of lobotomized patients he had seen once, in his own years as a student. There was a similar sense of emptiness. “So.” Jonathan stood up straight again, look back over the rest of his students. “Who can tell me what a phobia is?”

 

“It’s a fear of something.” A voice said, although where it came from Jonathan couldn’t say.

 

He clucked his tongue, already unimpressed. “I think you will find that it is far more than just ‘a fear of something’.” He said. “Anyone care to add on to that?”

“It’s a fear that causes extreme anxiety.” The Staring Girl, as she would be named until Jonathan learned her actual name, had spoken. Her accent was very clearly not from Gotham, it didn’t have the rough edges that mirrored how harsh life was there.

 

“Better.” Jonathan said with a nod. “Phobias are defined as being an extreme or irrational fear of or aversion to something.” He went back to the board and wrote up the definition, just as his students did the same with their various writing implements. “It is also classified as an anxiety disorder, which can cause severe distress and even panic attacks. In short, it is far, _far_ more than a simple fear.” He imagines that the student that had said ‘fear’ earlier was feeling, and possibly even looking, rather sheepish. Since he didn’t know who had spoken up, Jonathan decided to zero in on someone else.

 

“Name?” He’s looking directly at the Staring Girl, whose dark eyes remained empty.

 

“Daphne De Winter.” She looks at him and Jonathan finds himself wondering how someone so young was already able to completely mask their feelings.

 

“Thank you for enlightening us all, Miss De Winter.” He said. “Let’s hope you continue to do so.”

 

She didn't smile.

 

-

 

When the class was dismissed, everyone filed out of the door, except for De Winter. She hung back, and waited patiently for Jonathan to reorganize his things. When he was done he looked up at her, curious as to what she wanted. “Can I help you Miss De Winter?”

 

“Yes professor.” She approached his desk. “I would like to discuss my thesis with you, if that’s alright.”

 

Now, Jonathan is not a man who is easily surprised. In fact he couldn’t recall the last time he was surprised. Yet here he was. He leaned forward, placed his elbows on his desk and steepled his fingertips. “It’s a bit early for that don’t you think?”

 

“I like to do things as early as possible, I’m better prepared that way.” She said. She didn’t appear to be nervous.

 

Jonathan thought he could respect this student of his. “Very well, what will this thesis of yours be about?”

 

“The psychology of cultural fears.”

 

‘ _A woman after my own heart._ ’ The thought was a fleeting and sarcastic one. Jonathan didn’t consider himself to have a heart, not for a long time. “Seems rather apt considering what I teach.”

 

“That’s why I specifically asked for your class.” De Winter gave away nothing. Her eyelids barely flickered.

 

“Oh?” Johnathan allowed himself an arch of the eyebrow, a twitch of the lip that would’ve hinted at a smile, had he been a different kind of man. “Because of my focus on fear.”

 

“Yes. I figured I would have an easier time pitching my thesis idea to you than to any other professor who didn’t focus on fear.”

 

A sensible decision, and one Jonathan could endorse, if for no other reason than because it gave his ego something of a lift. “Well, it sounds like you’ve chosen a very interesting topic Miss De Winter.” Jonathan glanced up at the clock above the door as he heard the low thunder of footsteps that indicated a new class of students would soon descend upon him. “But I’m afraid it must be discussed at a later time. Please feel free to come see me during my office hours.”

 

De Winter nodded. “Thank you for your time professor.”

 

Jonathan watched her leave, and decided that every now and then, teaching does reap rewards.


	2. Chapter 2

“Nygma, you got a friend.”

 

The sound of Loeb’s voice made Edward look up from his work, already dreading what he would find.

 

Standing in the doorway that lead to the room where Edward worked was Commissioner Loeb, and beside him was a young woman Edward did not recognize.

 

He frowned as he looked over, and tried to think of a reason as to why he should care about his new ‘friend.’

 

She took a step forward. “I look forward to working with you Mr Nygma.” She said, in a polite tone.

 

Edward learned long ago that he was the kind of man who did best on his own. Perhaps this was due to his own tendency towards solitude, or the fact that solitude was often thrust upon him without him even having to speak, and thus it was a skill he more or less was forced to learn. But it was a helpful skill, and one that suited him perfectly fine. He was a solitary creature now, and one who had grown accustomed to a certain way of living, a routine, which had seen him through his life from college onwards.  _ This _ was very much going against that routine.

 

“Commissioner, may I speak with you?” Before Loeb could reply, Edward was out of his seat. “Alone?” He glanced at the young woman.

 

If she was offended or affronted by this, she didn’t indicate it and left the room, closing the door behind her.

 

“Who is that?” Edward asked, his brow furrowing as he frowned.

 

“That is Daphne De Winter,” Loeb replied, “she’s gonna be helping you from now on.”

 

Edward’s irritation spiked. “I don’t need help from anyone.” He snapped, glowering at Loeb. “And I feel that I should’ve been consulted on this, rather than have it placed in my lap.”

 

“Tough shit.” Loeb replied. He smirked and there was a glint in his eye that Edward did not like. “And trust me, if I was you, I would  _ kill _ to have something like this in my lap.” His smirk grew into a wide, toothy grin, as if it was helping steer Edward towards the double entendre, which he had already bypassed.

 

A part of Edward wanted to continue arguing, but he managed to hold his tongue, an act that was far more difficult for him than for the average person. He needed this job, both for the financial security it granted him, and for the plan that he had for Gotham. Being in Gotham’s Cyber Crime Division allowed him access to very sensitive materials, which was the majority of what he needed for the aforementioned plan. He could not afford to anger anyone with the power to disconnect him from these materials. Yes he would be able to uncover them elsewhere, but it was more convenient at the GCPD.

 

“Fine.” He almost spat out, folding his arms like a petulant child.

 

No doubt feeling like he had somehow conquered something spectacular, Loeb said, “I’ll bring her back in then.” He went out into the hallway to retrieve Miss De Winter, who would no doubt be under Edward’s feet all the time, and prove to be more trouble than she was worth and a new source of annoyances. The thought made him scowl.

 

When Loeb returned, Edward gave Miss De Winter a closer look.

 

Edward had no problems with admitting that the young woman had attractive qualities; dark brown eyes with that doe-like quality that is so universally beloved and fawned over, the straight black hair that fell past her shoulders, and the brown skin, just a few shades lighter than caramel. She barely looked older than twenty, and Edward was already dreading the idea of having to entertain her.

 

Loeb was leering at her and not even bothering to hide it, even though he was easily old enough to be her father. “Well, I’ll leave you two to get to know each other.” He gave Miss De Winter one last predatory look before leaving, not even bothering to close the door all the way.

 

Edward’s scowl deepened.

 

“I apologize if this has caused you any inconvenience Mr Nygma.” Miss De Winter said as she closed the door all the way. “I was under the impression that you were aware of being hired.”

 

Her politeness seemed genuine, which surprised Edward. “You’re not from here are you.”

 

“How could you tell?”

 

“You’re too genuine.” Edward sat back down in his seat and turned back to face the monitors that he used for his work. “And that kind of thing can get you into trouble in Gotham.”

 

There was a brief pause as Edward reviewed the work that he had been given, all of which was so far below his intelligence and skill levels that it almost bored him to tears.

 

“I’ll be sure to work on that.”

 

Edward glanced at Miss De Winter’s reflection in the monitor in front of him and saw that she was still and impassive as before. For her genuineness, she had an impressive poker face, which could prove to be an asset in a city like this one.

“How would you like me to help you Mr Nygma?”

 

While her presence had been an annoyance, her politeness towards Edward and insistence on calling him Mr Nygma was as appreciated as it was surprising. It also made him feel suspicious. He grabbed a nearby stack of papers and shoved them towards her, not even bothering to turn and face her. “Go file these away in the cabinets over there,” he jerked his head to the right, indicating the collection of file cabinets that were delightfully decorated with dust and rust, “alphabetically of course.”

 

“Of course.”

 

There wasn’t any kind of mirth in her response, not even the deadpan kind, and Edward found himself feeling frustrated with how difficult Miss De Winter was to read. For a while there was silence, only broken by Edward tapping keys and Miss De Winter sorting through the filing cabinets.

 

“I’m from Canada.”

 

“I don’t recall asking.” Edward had never been afraid to be curt with people, and his patience had already been worn thin from Miss De Winter’s sudden arrival.

 

“I’m just trying to make small talk.” She replied. The lack of emotion in her voice was truly a marvel. “It can make a work environment far more comfortable.”

 

Edward scoffed. He had never cared for having a comfortable work environment, and he wasn’t about to start now. But there was one thing he was curious about. “How did you get this job anyhow?”

 

“My aunt knows the commissioner.”

 

Ah, of course. The classic ‘it’s not what you know but who you know’ scenario. Really Edward shouldn’t have been that surprised. “So you left the great white north for Gotham.” He snorted and shook his head. “That really is the height of stupidity.”

 

“Perhaps. Only time will tell.”

 

Now Edward was getting suspicious. Miss De Winter was far too blase and calm for his liking. Edward prided himself on many things, one of which was being able to read people, but Miss De Winter was proving to be exceedingly difficult at letting him do that. What was her angle? Was she hoping to get something out of this? This definitely called for further investigation.

 

“Perhaps.”


	3. Chapter 3

That night, Jonathan dreamed of the crows.

 

The dream hadn’t appeared for years, not since his years as a graduate student. The crows pecked and pecked and pecked at his skin tearing at his flesh and leaving him a bloody mass of muscle crawling on the decayed floor of the old chapel while his great-grandmother’s cackle echoed with the cawing of the crows the sound getting louder and louder and reverberating off the building until they settled on Jonathan like a new skin and he couldn’t get them off get them off  _ get them off _ -

 

His face had a thin sheen of sweat when he woke, and there was a roiling in his stomach that made him feel sick, but he found himself unable to go to the bathroom. Thankfully his stomach stilled and nothing was brought up, but the inside of his mouth felt as if he had.

 

While washing his face Jonathan tried of think of what had triggered the dream. The only thing he could think of was the thought of De Winter’s thesis idea. The psychology of cultural fears. Well it was certainly an interesting topic, and one that did fit Jonathan’s area of expertise. To his knowledge none of his students have ever specifically asked for his classes, in fact he wasn’t aware that such a thing could happen. De Winter was certainly a creature worth observing, if for no reason other than her interest in fear. Perhaps she could prove to be useful for his own experiments as well.

 

He patted his face dry and while he did so, he imagined how De Winter would look and sound while utterly terrified.

 

-

 

Just as they had discussed the day before, De Winter came during Jonathan’s office hours. He didn’t have a class with her that day so this was the first time he had seen her that day.

 

“Good afternoon Miss De Winter.” He said when she entered and gestured to the chair across from him on the other side of his desk. “Please, sit.”

 

She did so. “I appreciate you hearing me out about my thesis Professor.”

 

“Of course.” Jonathan replied. “The pursuit of knowledge is an honorable one and it is my job as an educator to help you with that pursuit.” He steepled his fingers while his elbows rested on his desk. “Now, tell me more about this thesis of yours. I’m rather curious.”

 

“Well like I said it’s going to focus around the psychology of cultural fears.” De Winter replied. “How some things have such negative connotations in certain cultures that it creates an almost in built fear of the thing in the people of that culture.”

 

“Like generational trauma?”

 

“Yes, very much so.” She reached into her satchel and pulled out a hefty pile of papers, placing them on the desk with the kind of care one can only show to a project that means a lot of them. Jonathan would know that anywhere. “This is some prior research I’ve done.”

 

Jonathan raised a brow. “My you are ahead of the game.” He said, allowing a note of respect to slip through his words. He lowered his arms and leaned forward slightly. “Tell me, Miss De Winter, what are you afraid of?”

 

“I used to be afraid of owls.”

 

Now there was a surprising response. “Owls?”

 

She nodded. “Yes sir. In Seminole and Apache folklore, there are stories about evil owl creatures.” She cast her gaze downwards for a moment. “Used to scare me to death.”

 

There was a sense of satisfaction in knowing that the first time De Winter had shown any emotion was when discussing an old childhood fear. “Interesting. I take it you’re Seminole and Apache?”

 

“Yes sir. I actually grew up on a reservation in Canada.” She gestured to her pile of research. “All of that is from interviews I’ve done with many others from the reservation, children and adults.”

 

“Were many of them afraid of owls as well?” The ghost of a smile fluttered at the edges of Jonathan’s mouth.

 

“Some.” De Winter’s own mouth twitched, but it was so quick and small an action that Jonathan could not tell if it was meant to be a smile or something else entirely. “There was actually something of a disparity between fears among the generations. While the children tended to mostly fear the monsters from folklore, many of the adults feared white men and women.”

 

“That sounds rather odd.”

 

De Winter shook her head. “Not really. In Canada native children were routinely taken away from their homes to attend school’s run by the church. The school’s were rife with abuse and racism and it was the law for every native child between the ages of five and seventeen to attend. When you take that into consideration, the fear is more than justified.”

 

Jonathan felt that he vaguely remembered hearing about something like that, but he couldn’t say for sure. “I’m assuming you’re going to add context like that in your thesis.”

 

“Oh, of course.” De Winter replied, and Jonathan was somewhat amused to note that De Winter seemed to be mildly offended at the implication that she wouldn’t.

 

“Were you afraid of white men and women?” Jonathan watched De Winter closely, his eyes raking over her to find something that would tell him what was bubbling beneath the surface.

 

“As a child yeah.” She cleared her throat. “Pretty much everyone I grew up with was. They were our version of the boogieman, and we were always afraid that they would come and snatch us up.”

 

“Are you still afraid of them?”

 

“Do you think I would be in a room alone with you if I was?”

 

Jonathan let a corner of his mouth twitch into a smile long enough for De Winter to see it. “Fair enough.” He said, leaning back in his chair. “So what does scare you?”

 

“I don’t get scared any more.”

 

Oh.

 

_ Oh. _

 

De Winter is going to wish she had never said that to Jonathan. “I find that hard to believe.” He said. “Everyone feels fear.”

 

But De Winter shook her head. “There’s nothing left for me to fear.” She did not say it as a boast, merely as a statement of fact. “The world holds no more terrors for me.”

 

It was almost too perfect. Jonathan had been searching for something, someone, that could be the test subject for his experiments, and who better than someone who claimed to no longer feel fear?

 

De Winter cleared her throat. “But, as I was saying, I want to examine how entire cultures and communities can carry over fears the same way they can carry over traumas, whether that be in the form of monsters from folklore or monsters from real life.”

 

“Well it certainly sounds like you’ve got everything together.” Jonathan replied, allowing this change of subject. “You’re definitely more prepared than I was when I first started college.”

 

The smallest of smiles stretched across De Winter’s face. “Thank you professor.” Her eyes wandered to a point behind Jonathan, and she appeared to be startled. “I’m really sorry professor, but I have to go.” She rose to her feet and put her pile of papers in her satchel. “I’m going to be late to work.”

 

“We can’t have that.” Jonathan said, and he too stood up. “I must say I’m looking forward to seeing what you can bring to the table in the future Miss De Winter.” It wasn’t an entirely false statement, De Winter had indeed piqued Jonathan’s interest and he made a note to keep a close eye on her, to see where this little scholar would lead him.

 

“Thank you professor.” De Winter was one foot out of his office when she looked back over her shoulder. “Have a good night.” She left and closed the door without waiting for a reply.

 

Jonathan sat back down, leaning back in his chair as he steepled his fingers just above his chest. “The world holds no more terrors for me.” He muttered, and chuckled. “We shall see Miss De Winter. We shall see.”


	4. Chapter 4

As it turned out, Miss De Winter was not the nuisance Edward feared she would be. In fact, she was rather the opposite. She did whatever job Edward gave her without complaint and with a precision that Edward had to begrudgingly admire, even if it was only to himself. She was also still infuriatingly hard to read. She kept her face impassive and eyes blank and when she spoke she kept her tone steady. It appeared she was determined to keep as much as herself to herself as possible. It had been a few weeks since her appointment and Edward still couldn’t decide how he felt about her just yet, so naturally he remained surly and standoffish, maintaining a professional distance so that he could observe her objectively.

 

That was what he was doing when the two of them had to walk through the station, taking back piles of paperwork Loeb had given them. Edward didn’t miss the way the commissioner's eyes lingered on Miss De Winter’s bust, and he was sure she didn’t either. She was looking directly at Loeb, and would’ve been able to see how far south his gaze had wandered. But she had done anything out of the ordinary, did not say anything, or try to cover her chest and obstruct his view. She almost seemed bored. Edward couldn’t understand that. If he was a woman, he would’ve been furious and demanded Loeb to look him in the eye. He couldn’t help but wonder why more women didn’t do that.

 

“So that’s your new friend huh Nygma?”

 

Edward rolled his eyes, with possibly more exaggeration than was necessary, and elected to not respond to Detective Bullock.

 

Apparently unsatisfied, Bullock continued to speak. “Hey, sweetheart, has Nygma shared any of his riddles?”

 

With newly gritted teeth, Edward squared his shoulders and quickened his pace, digging his nails into the manila folder pile in his hands.

 

“I haven’t had the pleasure officer.”

 

Bullock’s laugh came out as a bark, befitting his pit bull like appearance. “I don’t think poor old Eddie knows anything about pleasure. But I’d be more than willing to show you.”

 

“Detective Bullock,” Edward stopped walking and looked over his shoulder, seeing that Bullock was standing in front of Miss De Winter, completely blocking her path. “I’d appreciate it if you did not acost my assistant, we have a lot of work to do.”

 

Raising his hands in a, rather trite, comedic gesture of surrender, Bullock did as he was asked. But he still leered after Miss De Winter.

 

“Why didn’t you say anything back there?” Edward asked when they were back in the measly office that was meant to house the entire Cyber Crimes Division. “To Bullock.”

To Edward’s surprise, Miss De Winter raised an eyebrow and showed genuine confusion. “I thought you would know why.” She said. “It ought to be obvious to a man as intelligent as you.”

 

He didn’t know if Miss De Winter intentionally meant to take a dig at his intelligence, but regardless Edward did not take it well. “Just answer the question.” He snapped.

 

There was a brief pause before Miss De Winter spoke again. “I want to keep my job Mr Nygma.” She said. “And to do that I need to avoid antagonizing the officers here. Admittedly I would like to give them a piece of my mind, but my options are limited.” She gestured to herself, waving her hand up and down her slim frame. “I’m five foot three and the average man in this building is five nine, with considerably more muscle and access to weapons. That’s why.”

 

“So, what, you’re afraid?”

 

Miss De Winter paused again, her eyes boring into the file in front of her. For a split second, Edward thought he saw the quirking of a smile in the corner of her mouth. ‘“I want a paycheck, and to be able to walk out of here in one piece.” She shrugged as she finally opened the file, looking over it’s contents. “If it was up to me, I wouldn’t be working here.”

 

Edward frowned. “And why would that be?” He hadn’t meant for it to sound snide, but it did anyway and really Edward didn’t care about her opinion enough to bother apologizing or amending what he said.

 

“I don’t like cops.”

 

For the first time in weeks, Edward was tempted to chuckle. “Well then, this placement is rather problematic for you then isn’t it?”

 

“Like I said, my aunt knows the commissioner. This job was her idea.” Miss De Winter shrugged. “I didn’t want to argue with her.”

 

“Well considering the GCPD’s record, I don’t blame you.” Edward replied. “But I’m guessing this started long before you got here.” Now that he had gotten this little tidbit of information, he was intrigued to follow it. He waited to see if Miss De Winter would take the bait, watching her reflection in one of the computer monitors.

 

“Yes, it did.”

 

More silence hung in the air, as Edward waited for her to expand on her point.

 

“And?”

 

“And...what?” Miss De Winter looked up, facing Edward’s back. “What do you want me to say Mr Nygma? The police officers I knew growing up couldn’t be trusted. I still don’t trust them. Gotham could be paradise and I wouldn’t trust the cops here as far as I could throw them.”

 

There was more silence between them as Edward mulled over what she had said. He had never really considered what police outside of Gotham were like. He more or less assumed they were just as corrupt, but never really thought about it beyond that. A part of him wanted to know more, to pull on this thread and stretch it taut, but Edward knew better. He had to be patient, wait for another opportunity to present itself before he asked more questions. Only fools rushed in after all, and Edward Nygma was no fool.

 

“What did Bullock mean by you sharing riddles?”

 

Around the GCPD, Edward had gained something of a reputation for asking riddles, mostly for fun, but also to test the intelligence of those around him and display his own. But he hadn’t indulged in this past time with Miss De Winter. He couldn’t say why, perhaps because he just wasn’t interested in her level of intelligence.

 

“Exactly what it sounds like.” He said with a shrug. “I sometimes share riddles. I like to test people with them.”

 

“Why haven’t you tested me?”

 

Edward couldn’t resist arching a brow. “Would you like me to?”

 

“Yes. It sounds like fun.”

 

Well, far be it from Edward to deprive Miss De Winter of ‘fun’ if it included riddles. “What belongs to you but others use it more than you do?”

 

It was a rather simple riddle, the kind you might give a young child, but Edward wanted to properly establish the threshold of Miss De Winter’s knowledge.

 

“Others use it more than you do…” She repeated, voice trailing off and Edward watched as the wheels turned in her head. “Your name.”

 

Edward’s brows involuntarily rose. A begrudging sense of approval for the young woman formed in his stomach. “Very good.” He said, allowing himself to smile. “There’s hope for you yet.”

 

Miss De Winter only smiled.

**Author's Note:**

> kudos and comments are greatly appreciated! have a good one!


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